


I'm a Bad Kid

by AlexSummanus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSummanus/pseuds/AlexSummanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, even the simplest task is way more difficult than it should have to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Bad Kid

T-minus seven hours, 55 minutes and counting.

 

Her paper, not yet even started, is due at midnight; our heroine (we'll call her Bunny) realizes she's once again a goddamned dumbass. Not for procrastination, though she's clearly guilty of that, but because she planned on using the notes her professor had made on her midterm paper to guide her MLA style citations on this final paper; however, at some point between receiving the notes via e-mail and this late hour, she deleted the document – like a  **baws** . 

 

She turns to the computer to pull up the Online Writing Lab she'd previously consulted for MLA crib notes, but she quickly realizes this was how she'd gotten into trouble before. No one keeps that shit up to date, especially since the MLA decides to change their style manual every ten minutes. She sighs. She finally has to do it. She is going to have to break down and buy a physical copy of the MLA handbook – kind of like she'd intended to do at the beginning of the semester but never did, like a  **goddamned dumbass** . 

 

A quick search of online book sellers suggests the book can be obtained for approximately $20. It's more than she'd like to spend, but it isn't going to break the bank. Hell, she could probably get ripped off by the campus bookstore and buy it for $25 but save herself a trip to Duluth in the process. Time is running too short for complicated decisions like this – the campus bookstore closes at 4:30, and it's a five-minute drive to the campus from her apartment. She quickly calls the bookstore to make sure it won't be a wasted trip.

 

Ring. Ring. Ring. “ _ Oh, don't  _ _**even** _ _ fuckin' tell me they left early... _ ” Ri-

 

“Good afternoon! 'Jacket Book and Supply!” The young woman's voice is cheery but slightly breathless. Apparently  _ someone _ had run all the way across the bookstore to answer the phone.

 

“Hi,” Bunny says. She tries to sound calm and cheerful, not stressed and about to kill someone. “Do you have the MLA handbook in stock?”

 

“The...MLA...” the woman begins. Her voice is tinged with uncertainty for a moment. “Oh! The MLA handbook for writing papers!”

 

Bunny is dying inside, but remains polite. “Yes, that one.”

 

“Yes, we still have some.”

 

“Great! You close at 4:30 this afternoon, correct?”

 

“Yes, that's right.”

 

“Great. Thank you!”

 

“No problem. Have a good afternoon.”

 

“Yes, you too.”

 

“Um...bye...”

 

Bunny rolls her eyes and hangs up the phone. Within seconds, she's changed from her pajama top into a t-shirt. Her sweatpants will suffice – it's not like anyone is around campus this late on the Friday before finals. Then, she's dashing out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot. Lady Gaga's “Born This Way” blares automatically from the speakers as she starts up the Ford Explorer she's borrowing from her in-laws.

 

Her relief at a thankfully unimpeded drive to campus turns quickly to consternation within the bookstore. Now that Bunny's actually standing in front of the clerk, the young woman seems less certain about the book she'd asked for. She heads toward the back of the store. “I think it's back here...I can get you a copy, the textbook area is blocked off now.”

 

Bunny trails along behind her and discovers the textbook shelves, largely empty, are indeed closed to the public. The circulation desk in the center of the textbook section, now being set up to serve as a book buyback location, is manned by a sour-faced woman who would probably look younger than the 40-something she appears to be if her face weren't locked in a scowl. The older woman glances briefly at Bunny and the clerk, then returns to the digital document she's reading.

 

The clerk, meanwhile, pulls a shrink-wrapped set of books from the shelf and hesitantly approaches Bunny with them. “We don't  _ actually _ have just the MLA handbook,” she said. She almost looks apologetic. “This is all of them – the MLA, the APA, the...other...guides like that.” Bunny can tell the clerk has basically no clue what she's talking about, and shrink-wrapped sets like that always sell for an obscene price. What were they going to want? $40?

 

“Well...how much is that set?” Bunny asks. She never uses APA anymore, but perhaps she can pawn it off on some poor psych or art therapy student and get the difference back.

 

“Um...” The clerk searches the tags for a moment, then finally, helplessly, turns to the woman manning the circulation desk. “How much is this one?”

 

The older woman scowls over her shoulder at Bunny and the clerk. Her eyes narrow as she considers the packet. “$66.” She's turning back to her screen within the same second.

 

“$66,” the clerk repeats.

 

_ Oh my fucking God.  _ Bunny is trying to not look completely annoyed, but she's certain the vein on her forehead must be bulging in a huge, grotesque X, like those exaggerated action anime characters. 

 

“Well,” Bunny finally says out loud. “That's...a bit steep for what I can afford right now.”

 

The clerk is already scrambling over the shelves, trying desperately to find a copy –  **any** copy – of just the MLA handbook. “Um...maybe there's a used one...I know there must be a used one...” She rounds on the older woman again. “Where are the open ones? Just the single book?”

 

“There  **are** no single ones!”

 

The sharp tone finally does it, and Bunny's had enough. The kid is just trying to be helpful; she's clearly a college student herself, and she knows how important things like this are right before finals. This  **woman** , on the other hand, is being a total ogress. Bunny smiles her practiced customer-service fake smile. 

 

“Thank you!” she says brightly. She tilts her head in the cute manner she's learned from too many shoujo anime and manga series. “I'll just go up to Barnes&Noble! Have a good afternoon!” She's pleased to see the battle-ax looks momentarily stunned, and she turns to leave with a more genuine smile on her face.

 

“Uh...thank...you...” the clerk calls after her.

 

Bunny's already doing time and fuel mileage calculations in her head as she pulls out of the Yellowjacket Union parking lot. She's going to be really pushing her luck with the time available and the quarter-tank of gas remaining, but she should be able to make it to Duluth, purchase the book there, return, and still get all of her work done.

 

At least she thinks so, until she encounters the first of the signs bearing the rage-inducing construction zone orange.

 

She quickly calms herself. “ _ Okay, it's just a detour sign for US 53 northbound _ ,” she tells herself. “ _ Monday is when the High Bridge closes. They must be putting the detour signs up today so people know where to go Monday morning. _ ” Still, the double-lanes of backed up traffic leave her feeling uneasy. If people were only  **testing** the detour today and traffic was like this already, what would it be while the High Bridge was closed? She tries not to think too hard about it. She focuses on Lady Gaga instead.

 

“ _ Ho~o~ker...yeah, you're my hooker. Ho~o~ker...government hooker. _ ”

 

The distraction almost works. Bunny only mentally gripes a little bit about the broken glass  **still** scattered alongside the approach to the Bong Bridge despite the detour coming through here. And then...

Another rage-inducing orange sign. This one is on its face, not yet directing traffic, but clearly being readied to do so in the near future. This is not a detour sign. The few letters that can be made out indicate this is a “Road Work Ahead” sign.

 

_ No... _

 

Then another. This one, also on its face, has an arrow on it. An arrow pointing  **left** . 

 

Then yet another. Also on its face, tilted just enough to make out the words, “Right Lane Closed Ahead.”

 

_ They. So. Are.  _ _**NOT** _ _. _

 

The appearance of orange cones and an additional lane change arrow sign confirm it. The right lane of US 2/I-35 northbound is going to be under construction in the very near future...in the same very near future when US 53 northbound is going to be closed completely for construction.

 

The various highway department agencies in control of the mess of highways that connect the Twin Ports have made the stunningly brilliant decision to throttle traffic on the official detour – the  **only** other access to Duluth from the south without going miles out of the way. But it isn't just  **throttling** traffic that upsets Bunny – it is throttling traffic in the direct access lane to the I-35 northbound ramp...the I-35 northbound ramp everyone who knows both routes takes to access US 53 northbound on the Duluth side of the border.

 

Bunny exhales slowly.

 

“ _ Okay _ ,” she tells herself. “ _ Okay. I can handle this. Winter's done, so now it's road construction. This happens every year. It's cool. I'll just make sure I think of anything I need in Duluth for a while and get it tonight. _ ”

 

She merges on to I-35 northbound, and after she cusses out a Minnesota plate who can't  **get out of the fucking way** so she can move into the left lane for her quickly approaching exit, she spots it: an orange barrel. A  **rage-inducing** orange barrel. Then another. And another. And another. In a line, stretching down the right side of I-35 northbound.

 

“ **What the actual fuck?!** ” she screams. Her road rage has kicked into high gear, and she can feel her blood pressure rising. “ **What stupid fuck thought this was a good idea? How the fuck are people supposed to drive from Superior to Duluth? FUCK this! FUCK Duluth!** ”

 

Thankfully, her exit is in view and she has to focus on the road again. She works hard to stay focused as she climbs the sweeping curves up the cliffs to the Miller Hill Mall. As she approaches the mall entrance, she spies yet another “Road Work Ahead” sign. She can hear the sharp, angry intake of air through her nostrils, but she forces herself to pay attention to the intersection instead. Nobody  **else** pays attention in the mall driveway, she reminds herself, and this is a borrowed vehicle.

 

Sure enough, as she starts down one of the lanes toward the mall, another vehicle approaches – traveling the wrong way in a clearly marked, single-vehicle only lane. The other driver won't back down and admit her mistake, but Bunny is frustrated enough by this point that she's not backing down either. She forcefully stares down the other driver, who edges her car as far to the left side of the lane as she can get to allow the Explorer room to pass. Bunny pulls around to the nearest open spot. She doesn't even have patience to parking spot hunt this afternoon.

 

Barnes&Noble is a regular stop for Bunny on most shopping days, so she steers herself directly to the computer kiosk to look up the location of the MLA handbook. She doesn't have time to pick over all their reference and education books today. She locates the book on the map in seconds, wheels around on her heel and moves quickly to its location, only to find...

 

SAT study guides. Praxis I study guides. “ _ I'll have to remember to look at those after finals _ ,” she tells herself. Study guides for tests she's never even heard of. She moves around to the opposite side of the shelf to make sure she wasn't mistaken but finds children's reference books. As hilarious as it would be to find the MLA handbook among them, it's not going to be there. She checks the end caps. The handbook just is not on the shelf where it's supposed to be.

 

She had been keeping subtle tabs on the employee working the center desk, listening to her help another customer in the background, and fortuitously the customer is leaving. Bunny snags the opportunity and steps up to the desk before anyone else has a chance.

 

“Can I help you?” The employee is a bespectacled older woman, somewhat round all over, with a soft voice. Bunny gives herself a second to chill; she doesn't want to take her frustration out on some nice lady working at a bookstore.

 

“Do you have the MLA handbook?” Bunny asks. The woman starts to point toward the reference shelves, and Bunny quickly answers the unspoken suggestion. “I didn't see it on the shelf, but it's entirely possible I'm just overlooking it.”

 

“Oh, dear, no, you're probably not,” the woman replies. She starts to type into the computer. “Let me see if we have any in stock...someone was just asking for one the other day, too.” She hems and haws for a moment as the computer searches the inventory. “Maybe it's in a different place,” she says in the interim. “I know the APA manual is behind the desk...”

 

Another employee, a woman who appears somewhat older and much thinner, but equally bespectacled, overhears the conversation as she approaches the desk. She stops short, turns in place, and disappears back the way she came. A moment later she returns with the MLA manual in hand.

 

“Oh, there it is!” the employee behind the desk exclaims in relief. “I knew you would know where it was at!”

 

Bunny gratefully takes the book. “Thank you so much for your help!”

 

“Oh, no, thank  **you** !” the woman behind the desk returned. “I'm glad we could help you!”

 

Bunny lets her gaze wander over the shelves for a moment as she turns back toward the registers. With her sought-after book in hand, the stress leaving her body makes her a bit giddy, and she walks almost blindly to the shelves of manga. “ _ Fuck the campus bookstore, _ ” she thinks, her own voice soft in her head. “ _ I got my book and it's $22 here. Now, I'm going to get a manga to read when I'm done with my paper. Something new. Something different than what I have already. _ ”

 

After a few moments of perusing the shelves, she starts to turn away in disappointment – most of the titles are familiar and offer no interest to her. Suddenly, one of the spines catches her eye. It's pink and white, but...is that the word  **zombie** on the spine? She takes a closer look.

 

_ Is this a ZOMBIE? _ the title reads. A little girl in a frilly pink dress adorns the spine below the title. Her curiosity piqued, she reaches to take it off the shelf and discovers it is shrink-wrapped. This intrigues her further. “ _ But...plastic is usually reserved for pornos. _ ” She flips it over to look at the back cover. Above a drawing of four chibi-styled characters, a blurb reads:

  


_Life (or undeath?) isn't easy for Ayumu Aikawa. A seemingly normal high schooler, he is in fact a zombie serving as bodyguard to an introverted necromancer. This already-complicated existence becomes even more outlandish when he accidentally steals the powers of a “magikewl girl,” transforming into one himself!! How's a reanimated corpse supposed to keep his head on his shoulders with roommates like these girls around the house?_

 

Bunny simply stares at the book for a moment. She flips it over and sees a larger version of the same girl in pink who adorned the spine. The girl is wielding a chainsaw. A speech balloon next to the girl says, “Is this a ZOMBIE?” and a tag line under the volume number reads, “Yes, this is Volume 1 of the comic.”

 

“ _ Oh. My God. _ ” Bunny is nearly speechless with joy. “ _ Comedic, gender-bending, magical girl zombie porn. How has this never been in my life before. This will now be mine. _ ” At $11.99, she's willing to sacrifice a couple meals for the book. At the register, her elation doubles – her Barnes&Noble membership discount brings the total for both books with tax to $33 even – exactly  **half** what the campus bookstore wanted for their rip-off set of style guides. This was definitely worth the frustration.

 

As she heads back to Superior, the cool gray sky dampens her mood slightly, as does the shit brown tinge that settles on everything in the Twin Ports. However, she now has what she needs for her craft paper, she has a book that promises to be entertaining for her down time, and after a quick but annoying stop at Michael's for spray fixatif, she is relatively sure she won't need anything in Duluth for a while. She cruises back down the cliffs with Lady Gaga singing her anthem through the car speakers. “ _ We don't care what people say, we know the truth! Enough is enough of this horseshit. I am  _ _**not** _ _ a freak, I was born with my free gun! Don't tell me I'm less than my freedom. _ ”


End file.
